


Can You Hear My Cries?

by AngelWithAStory



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: And Wanted To Write It Out, Based On A Twitter Storyline, First Episode Of Season 3, I Fell In Love With It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been three years since John Watson saw his best friend jump of Bart's roof. He's carried on with his life, completely unaware that Sherlock was in London, keeping an incredibly low profile. It's only when John gets kidnapped by a Ms Violet Crane that Sherlock realizes John still isn't safe from every criminal: and that doesn't go down well with the infamous Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Hear My Cries?

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off a RP story line that happened on Twitter a while ago. I followed it and I desperately want this to be Season 3 Episode 1.

John stepped out of 221B Baker Street holding a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. He turned to lock the front door, almost completely oblivious to the world around him. It wasn’t a day John liked to remember. He didn’t even want to wake up this morning. He started walking down the street to where his cab laid waiting for him, but unfortunately, someone was running up the street and collided with John. That person dropped a shopping bag they were carrying and glared angrily at him.  
“I’m sorry. So sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention.” John apologised, helping the person pick up their bag. It was a woman, probably early thirty’s. She had long dark hair and was of average height.  
“It’s okay. I wasn’t really paying attention either.” She said, catching a glimpse of Johns face. Her eyes twinkled as she extended her hand. “I’m Violet. Violet Crane.”  
“I’m John Watson.” He replied politely, shaking Violets hand. Even though her sudden change in attitude was strange, he didn’t let on.  
“Why have you got those flowers?” Violet asked, desperate to keep him in her presence a bit longer.  
“Erm... they’re for my friend who died. I’m going to put them on his grave.” John admitted, looking anywhere but Violets face. “I’m sorry, my cabs here.” He apologised, waving goodbye and running for the cab. The cab drove off with John in the backseat and Violet watched it until she couldn’t see the taxi anymore. A dangerous idea formed in her head. John drove off through the crowded streets of London until the Taxi pulled up in front of an old looking church. He paid the taxi driver and clambered out, holding the flowers in his hand tightly. John made his way through head stones and graves until he came to the one he wanted. It was a shiny black marble headstone with the words ‘SHERLOCK HOLMES’ engraved in a gold paint. John placed the flowers carefully on the base of the headstone and stepped back.  
“It’s been three years, and I still find this hard.” He began, focusing on the first word of the gravestone. “You were, and still are, my best friend, and nothing can change that. I don’t want to spend too long here, but... I’m really starting to think that you aren’t coming back. You could actually be dead, but I knew you Sherlock. I knew you would give up this easily. I still believe you told me the truth, and nothing can change that.” John stopped himself, and just turned away, leaving the flowers on the ground. He did this every year since Sherlock died, and each year it got harder and harder to do. John walked back to the road, called a taxi and headed home.  
Mrs Hudson was waiting for him in his flat when he got home.  
“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea, love?” she asked, nervous for him. She hated this day. John wouldn’t talk much and could blow up at the slightest thing.  
“No thanks Mrs Hudson. I think I just want to watch telly.” John admitted, slouching on the sofa.  
“I thought you were going to have dinner with Mary?” she asked, not wanting john to be depressed all day.  
“I’m having dinner with Mary tomorrow.” John corrected her, staring at the ceiling.  
“okay dear. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Mrs Hudson reassured him, before heading downstairs. Darkness descended over the busy town of London and John became fed up of staying in the house all day.  
“MRS HUDSON, I’M GOING FOR A WALK!” he called down the stairs, pulling his jacket on and pocketing his keys. John trailed around several streets, not caring where he went or how he met. There were surprisingly few people out for this time of night, but John didn’t register any of it. Suddenly, a figure came around the corner and next thing John knew, he was on the ground, clutching his leg. A loud bang had sliced the air and someone came running towards him through the darkness. The intense pain John felt was familiar pain. A gunshot. John had been shot before, but through his shoulder. An ambulance siren sounded down the quiet street and John was transported into the ambulance. He lost consciousness shortly after the ambulance set off. He was racing towards St. Bartholomew’s hospital.  
“Come on, you’ve got to eat something. It’s been days and you haven’t eaten anything.” Vin Hampton persuaded, standing over the counter opposite a man with dark curly hair and greeny-blue eyes. He looked at her with a bored expression on his face  
“Oh, Vin...” he began.  
“You envy my pathetic mind. Yeah, yeah I’ve heard it before, now eat. It’s not good for you.” Vin continued, pushing a plate of toast under his nose. Grumpily, Sherlock took the plate form her and sat on the stool.  
“I hate it when you get like this.” He observed, taking a bite of toast.  
“I’m looking out for you. I’ve let you hide here for three whole years, be thankful I haven’t killed you already.” Vin countered in a jokey way but an unappreciative frown passed over Sherlock’s face.  
“Well, I’ve got nothing to do all day!” he complained.  
“I let you have all the cigarettes you want and I let you help with my work.” Vin said, dumping her own plate in the sink.  
“Your work is hardly thrilling.” Sherlock sniped. Vin put her hands on her hips.  
“I’ve only just started working for Scotland Yard; they’re hardly going to let me in on the big cases, are they?”  
“They let me in.” Sherlock said, indignantly, chewing another bite of toast.  
“Yeah well, I’m not you.” Vin said shortly, turning the TV on and opening the newspaper in front of her. They were silent for a few minutes, Vin skimmed over all the reports but one caught her eye.  
“This taste funny.” Sherlock complained, putting his plate on the counter.  
“Shut up, Sherlock. Look at this,” Vin urged, shoving the paper in front of his face. Sherlock read the article quickly and a horrified look came over his face.

MAN SHOT DOWN ON BAKER STREET  
Dr John Watson of 221B Baker Street was shot a few days ago through the leg and admitted to hospital. According to his landlady, Mrs Hudson, John had left his flat to go for a walk when the event occurred. Why he left the flat is yet to be discovered. Police are investigating the incident. As of yet, there seem to be no suspects. No one else was reported to be at the scene and details are yet to come. Only two people saw John Watson between, his landlady, and a stranger he bumped into earlier that day, (Miss Violet Crane), according to the local cafe owner... (Continued on next page)

The two looked at each other in shock.  
“Go talk to Lestrade.” Sherlock said softly.  
“Already on it.” Vin said excitedly, pulling her denim jacket on and grabbing her mobile off the coffee table. She punched in a number and held it to her phone as she pulled the components of her bag together. “Greg, I need your help. No, I’ll meet you at Scotland Yard. Can you do a background check on someone?” she asked down the phone.  
“Who?” The voice at the other end of the phone asked. Vin looked at Sherlock.  
“Have you seen today’s paper?” Vin wandered, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder. “I think you’ll really be interested in this one.” Vin walked out the door, locking it behind her. Sherlock slumped into a chair and pressed his fingers together. Predictably, his thoughts were racing. 

“You can’t really think that Violet Crane had something to do with it.” Lestrade said in despair. Vin was standing in front of his desk at Scotland Yard. She had her arms folded across her chest.  
“Why not? Everything’s possible until proven otherwise.” She countered.  
“I’m sorry Vin. You know I respect you, but I really don’t see how she can be connected.” Lestrade said, not taking her seriously.  
“At least do the check on her.” Vin persuade. Lestrade got out of his chair lazily and walked over to one of the computers outside. He opened up a program and typed in VIOLET CRANE.  
“There, she’s on holiday.” He said; his voice definitive.  
“What?” Vin leaned in to the computer screen in disbelief.  
“She boarded a plane five days ago to the Caribbean. She couldn’t have done it.”  
“John was shot four days ago. Violet crashed into him the day he was shot.” Vin persisted. Lestrade, for once, seemed very impressed with her thinking. 

John lay in his hospital bed, an IV drip inserted in his arm. He’d been in the hospital for a few days and his wound seemed to be healing just fine. A woman pulled back the curtain witch separated him from everyone else and ran towards him.  
“Mary.” He said in surprise as she came up and hugged him.  
“John, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I only just heard about it. I wondered why you missed dinner and I tried ringing you flat but no one answered. I was worried.” Mary said, the words coming out as one long sentence.  
“It’s okay Mary, I’m fine.” John reassured her, stroking her blonde hair.  
“I’m so glad.” She said in relief. Mary refused to leave John until a nurse came and told her John needed to get some rest and she could visit him tomorrow.  
“Don’t worry about me, Mary. I’ll be fine.” John promised as Mary was about to go.  
“Oh, I was going to lend you this book before but, I forgot.” She handed him a well-loved paperback book and blew him a kiss. John settled down and started reading it after Mary left. It was a good book. John was so absorbed; he didn’t notice the nurse come in until she blocked his light.  
“I’m here to fill up your drip.” She said strangely.  
“It doesn’t need filling up.” John said, seeing the drip was still quite full. The nurse paid no attention to him and for some reason, John felt sleepy. He looked properly at the nurse and almost screamed out in surprise. He recognised her face and black hair was starting to show through the blond wig she must have put on.  
“Shhh. Calm down John.” Violet said, starting to panic. Whatever she had put in the drip had taken affect and John was overpowered by sleep. Violet exhaled heavily and began moving John to the wheelchair she’d acquired. The plan was working.

 

“Any news?” Sherlock asked impatiently. It was a few days after Vin had gone to Scotland Yard and Lestrade promised to get in touch.  
“No. he hasn’t called.” Vin said disappointed. “Sherlock, relax.” She watched him pace the floor and it put her on edge.  
“How can I relax?” Sherlock snapped. “Someone shot John. He’s in hospital and we’ve got a lead.” He paced about, looking around the room in desperation.  
“Why don’t you put the telly on? Take your mind off it.” Vin suggested. Sherlock was about to reply when Vin’s mobile rang. She quickly picked up. “Hello?”  
“Who’s calling?” Sherlock hissed. She held up a hand to silence him, listening intently.  
“I’ll be straight in.” She hung up the phone and shoved her jacket on. “That was Lestrade. Something’s happened. He wants me to help.”  
“What happened?” Sherlock asked; hungry for details. Vin acted as if she didn’t hear him.  
“I think they might believe that we have a lead. I don’t know when I’ll be back...” she continued, grabbing her bag. Sherlock got her wrist and held it.  
“Vin, what happened?” he demanded. She looked away.  
“I don’t know when I’ll be back, so try and eat something.” She tried to say but Sherlock’s gaze stopped her.  
“Tell me what happened?” Sherlock said in more of a pleading way now.  
“John’s been kidnapped.” Vin said finally. Sherlock let go of her wrist and Vin opened the door. “Sherlock, promise me you won’t do anything crazy while I’m out. You have to stay here, I’ll collect every detail I can and then, the case is yours. I promise.” Vin said, sorry to leave him with that information. She ran to catch a cab and raced to Scotland Yard. Lestrade was waiting in his office for her.  
“I think you’ve been right all this time.” He admitted, leading her to a computer.  
“Bring up all the information of Violet Crane you can.” Vin demanded. Lestrade brought up her file and Vin was shocked at the little information.  
“There’s no address, no insurance documents, nothing. She’s completely untouchable.” Lestrade said, trusting Vin.  
“Give me relative’s addresses; she might be staying with them.”  
“The only address that’s listed is her aunts. All the rest of her family is probably in another country as far as our records go. She might be as well.”  
“No. she’s in the country. She couldn’t leave with John.”  
“Why are you so sure it was her, and how do you know she is in the country?” Lestrade asked, being seriously reminded of someone else.  
“It’s obvious. If she was John’s kidnapper, she must have done something to sedate him. There’s no way he would have went voluntarily. Especially after being wounded.” Vin explained, typing the address into her phone’s electronic notepad.  
“So you think she drugged him?” Lestrade recapped, trying to keep up.  
“Yeah, I think she might have slipped him something along with his normal medication in the hospital.” Vin thought aloud. Donovan walked passed, just hearing what Vin said.  
“You really think that whoever kidnapped him, just took him from the hospital? Someone would have seen them.” She said, in her bored, unbelieving tone.  
“No, I think that they timed it just right, or they used disguises. The person would have been someone who knew the workings of a hospital. Maybe they worked there?” Vin continued, double checking the address on her phone. “Thank you Lestrade, I’ve got all the information I need.”  
“Okay, look, I trust you Vin. I knew John, I’m sure I’m not the only one who wants him back alive. Do you really think you can solve this?” he said, completely serious.  
“Greg, I know I can solve this. I just need to have you on board.” Vin said, just as serious.  
“Fine. Do you want me to send police to this address?” he asked, reluctantly giving Vin the lead.  
“No, I want them to wait. I’ll go heck out the house first, then I’ll signal for them to come.” Vin said, sweeping out of the building. She quickly whipped out her phone, sending a message to Sherlock. “Got a lead. Get dressed and we’ll go. Be home in a few minutes. VH” she sent the message and jumped into a cab. Sherlock was waiting for her at the door.  
“Can we take the car? Taxis will remember us. Oh, and you’ll need this.” He said, handing Vin her gun.  
“The car’s in the garage round the corner. Let’s go.” Vin said, pulling the keys out of her bag.

The drug must have been wearing off slightly. John could feel the motion of the car, but his vision was blurry. The car stopped suddenly and the door next to him opened. Violet dragged him out the car and into the house.  
“Where are we?” John asked, his head foggy and his thoughts clouded.  
“A nice house in the countryside. My aunt gave it to me a few weeks ago. We won’t be disturbed here.” She said, leading him into a room. It was dark and the only light came from a single lamp. John could make out a bed but not much else. All he could tell was he was truly trapped.


End file.
